Things to do in captivity:
Pace the
width and length of your confinement; think about Nelson Mandela, 27 years in a
cell, holding onto a vision of the sky.
Make a To
Do list.
Ignore the list.
You have already been putting those jobs off forever. They may never get done. Flagellate yourself for this procrastination, but only for two minutes. No point.
Turn to
the small joys that get you through: books, movies, tapping at the keys,
(persistently, like a demented obsessive woodpecker pecking holes in a soft brown trunk.)
Do you
think of all you might have done, that you thought there would always be time
for? Do you castigate yourself with shoulda, coulda, woulda? Too late
now.
Do you
dream of what you’ll do once captivity ends? Rest and wait. Those days will
come again; this time, we will be ready.
Dear
fellow humans: I see you sitting at your window, pale and wan, looking out,
dreaming of summer days on the beach. I, too, go to my sliding glass door many
times a day, slide it back, stick my nose out to breathe the outer air: such
joy to sniff sea breezes, watch cedar branches tossing in the wind.
In closed
rooms all over town, humans are locked in, the way we cage animals. Now we know
how they feel. May we set them all free.
What does
your heart say? These are lessons we needed to learn. Mother Earth tried to
tell us, with wildfires and floods. Finally, she had no other way. Through the
animals we tortured and abused came this mutating virus that scares us to the
bones of our being.
As you
pace your rooms, whether small or grand, reflect on where we go from here. “This
may not be the darkness of the tomb,” the wise woman* said, “but the darkness
of the womb.” She says we can birth a new day from this time of gestation, a
day whose time has come.
Look for the rainbow warriors. Look for
light under the doorway to tomorrow. Let’s head for that light; join together in deposing the criminally corrupt. May wild women warriors stride
into the corridors of power and set Mother Earth and humankind to healing.
*Valerie
Kaur
Day Twenty of Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner.
Sherry, this is my favorite of yours in quite a while. I actually laughed out loud after reading the 'ignore the lists' and 'turn to the small joys' stanzas. You were definitely inspired. Indeed we don't have too much to complain about if we take into consideration Nelson Mandela's confinement. A keeper!!
ReplyDeleteI love Valerie Kuir. Her message of revolutionary love resonates with me so much. Love what you've written here.
ReplyDeletePerhaps, out of the womb we will be reborn in new ways. May we breathe in the air with a new appreciation for life.
ReplyDeleteI am enjoying your writings they come from that sacred place inside (the heart)
Ha ha. I like to do lists, or rather I need them so my mind can be busy with other things that are more enjoyable than my tasks.
ReplyDeleteI also have a hard time thinking about what I will do when all this ends, because I do not see the end as a clear limit when we can resume all the things we used to do.